


Ohchill

by Hipsterian



Category: Block B, Winner (Band)
Genre: Art Exhibition, M/M, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23410624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hipsterian/pseuds/Hipsterian
Summary: Jinwoo knows nothing about art but he likes what he sees, feeling content in there as if the place was his new favourite café (though this is the first time he is here).Minho opens his coffee shop and Jinwoo becomes a regular.
Relationships: Kang Seungyoon/Lee Seunghoon, Kim Jinwoo/Song Minho | Mino
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Ohchill

**Ohchill**

"I think that Minho is still into you".

Jinwoo has come to the grand opening of the coffee shop because it was Seunghoon's new job and he was a supportive friend. He didn't expect the owner to be Minho. Not that it mattered to him. Seunghoon smiles at him and makes a show put of making him a simple latte. But that is the point of this place, he discerns, looking around at all the art displayed. There are colourful canvas everywhere, even laying on the counter. Bright shades modelling hands and eyes.

Jinwoo knows nothing about art but he likes what he sees, feeling content in there as if the place was his new favourite cafe (though this is the first time he is here). It's comfortable and modern and he has to admit that Seunghoon is a plus because his tea is excellent and the cookies are soft and delightful. The bartender is a young boy who smiles at all the clients and offers them a loyalty card that he already has tugged inside the pocket of his jeans. With all the light coming from the chandeliers and the curtains down, he feels like home.

Jinwoo has found a new place to work from. Because working from home with his loud roommate Seungyoon is impossible. He plays the guitar at odd hours of the night and pouts at him when he complains (and he looks so cute he can't complain at all).

After a few moments, after he has emptied his cuppa of tea, he gets in line to pay and congratulate the owner.

Minho sees him and freezes. Jinwoo is smiling at him gracefully, just like he has always and he is losing his capacity to talk.

"Minho! It's been so long!" Jinwoo greets him, gleaming under the light. Minho recounts the months and days and moments since they have last met, in college, when he was a junior and Jinwoo his best friend's friend – and all the missing sinks into him like stones in water; he hasn’t changed a bit. Still wonderful, a storm of light and sun.

If he closes his eyes, he still can recall the very first moment when Jinwoo came into his life. He never left since then, even when Minho tried to, to push him out of his way, to uproot him from his system, but he was under his skin, a flower on his dreams and he couldn't get rid of him, he didn't want to. But, despite all his intents, they were nothing more than acquaintances, nothing more than casual greetings on the halls and polite questions were thrown casually. Still been at a common friend’s friend level – and it was alright because Jinwoo was graduating and Minho wouldn’t see him again.

Minho smiles at him, taking in all that Jinwoo still is – gorgeous. Jinwoo is standing in front to him, his hand reaching for his one, gracing his fingers with his soft palm and Minho wants to be soaked by this mild sensation that is bringing birds inside the cage on his chest, that place that has been empty since the last time they had met.

He stores the warm of his touch deep inside his flesh, his chest-beating, contented, joyfully. He shakes his hands and stares at him as if years haven't passed by. Jinwoo is still the same - Jinwoo is even more handsome now, he declares, watching him up close.

Minho's voice wavers when he replies to his smile, trying to dodge the blush of his cheeks, but his blood enforces it anyway despite his disagreement - his body takes control over his emotions, letting them shine out, making Jinwoo laughs.

"How much I own you?" Jinwoo asks, reaching for his wallet.

"It's on the house," Minho replies 'it's always on the house for you' he wants to add, trying to act cool, but he is stoned, too caught up staring at him to even pretend. He can't be cool in front of Jinwoo even though he oozes grooviness on the daily. Seunghoon is going to kick him, he can picture his giggles and his interminable nagging falling on him like rain. He can feel it already, how he will punch him for being helplessly smitten in front to Jinwoo, being a fool worshipping Jinwoo but unable to talk properly to him – and even when he manages to speak to him, he fails, too drunk out of Jinwoo’s dope to be coherent.

Seunghoon came to him with a barista degree and four years at the cuisine school. He stopped looking for applicants after him. And if he can be celebrating Ohchill’s grand opening it is thanks to Seunghoon. Not only was he a great cook, but he has helped him as if Ohchill was his own cafe. He talks with suppliers and gets him the best deals – he takes matters into account, makes lost ends meet. And he is a straight contact to Jinwoo - though he never said it aloud.

From the counter, he can hear Jihoon's smirk. He is taking orders, smiling his sloppy, cute smile that makes women woo over him - he can hear them sighing from a kilometre afar. That's the exact reason why he has hired him - not because they are best friends forever since high school.

Right after Jinwoo, Minho can see Minhyuk, his mentor and inspiration, owner of Mujabee, waiting to congratulate him, but Minho ignores him to get another sight of Jinwoo, but he has stepped out of his view, back to Seunghoon.

"This will be a very trendy place," Minhyuk says, a hand on Minho's shoulder. He smiles but his eyes are trailing on Jinwoo, following around. He is chatting animatedly with Seunghoon and there isn't a pang of jealousy - because his heart has been replaced by a hummingbird. Minhyuk, too, tracks Minho's eyes and smirks when he notices the one that holds Minho's full attention. "Good luck with that boy, Minho", he smirks and Minho turns to him a moment too late.

Minhyuk is already introducing himself to Jinwoo. Minhyuk is showing dimples at Jinwoo with an unnatural interest – a hunter looking at his new prey. The gall. The insolent. He is a jerk, Minho crosses him from his list of people he appreciates and sulks, nearly ignoring all the other customers wanting to talk to him.

Seunghoon rolls his eyes while coming to save the day by thanking cheerfully to clients and getting them free food. Minho will have to acknowledge him later. But right now he has a cafe to take care of since the boss is too pissed to be out in public - Jihoon gently pushes him back to the staff room. Minho is still rumbling, cursing at Lee Minhyuk though Jihoon doesn't understand what has unfolded between them – last time he checked they were both in good terms.

"Minho, what is wrong?" but Minho ignores him as he ignored everyone else after that pretty boy. He was the last person Minho greeted before the downfall of his mood, before getting sour.

When the local is all empty Minho gets out of his hideout. He looks sad and dejected and Seunghoon makes a note to tell Jinwoo, just for the laughs. He has never addressed it seriously to his hyung, he never really thought that Minho was more than just awestruck by his beauty and yet, despite all the years, Minho still looks at Jinwoo as if the centre of the universe - the impulse of gravity pulling him to Jinwoo, throwing a tantrum when someone else took interest in Jinwoo. Childish – but fun to contemplate, to crack up about.

Jinwoo brushes it off. Laughs at it.

"He doesn't know me. If he did he wouldn't bear me," he tries to keep it light but it hurts Seunghoon the same, the way he has to despite himself. But, in the end, it's not his business - his business is to keep clients coming to Ohchill; he can leave this matter to Minho, to make sure that Jinwoo knows his worth.

Seunghoon would happily explain to Jinwoo that anybody would be blessed to know him, that he is kind and caring and enough; that meeting him is a fulfilled dream. But he knows better than to embarrass Jinwoo and he is occupied mixing coffees at the counter.

He is tossing the mixer for a better blending, making clients ow in awe when someone comes in. The doorbell rings and he looks up for a second and his hands drop and the counter is flooded with milk. His eyes, though, are buried inside the sight in front of him.

Blond, curly, puppy smile.

He has to clean the disaster but his eyes are still trailing on this new boy. A boy who waves at someone sitting already on a table, sipping gracefully from one of Seunghoon's magistral cups of tea. There is a laptop and he is fidgeting with the keys, writing. When he notices the boy smiling at him, his head peaks out, leaving momentarily the screen, greeting him. The boy sits and begins talking excitedly to Jinwoo and Seunghoon's misses a second time his juggling, spilling more coffee to the counter, earning some disapproval from the costumers lined in, waiting for their turn to get their orders. But Seunghoon can't avoid it, his eyes are transfixed, solely on him, staring at his puffy cheeks and his curly, messy hair, his fingers already missing the touch of it.

When Jinwoo looks up at Seunghoon and sees the disaster, all the coffee staining his hands and his navy apron when his eyes trails back to what he is watching - who Seunghoon is staring at, ignoring everything else - he cracks up. He laughs, clapping hands in a very annoying way and it's contagious because his friend starts laughing, too, glancing back and forth between the wet, brown stained counter and Jinwoo's smile.

It's embarrassing, he hates it, the way his nose scrunches and his eyes crinkle, tilting fairy lights inside his brown, tinny eyes. The boy is so mesmerising he forgets where he is and what he is supposed to do because all he can think about is that this is a view to behold, to replicate on his mind like a mantra, paint it in bright, joyful shades of orange and yellow, memories it as his new favourite song.

As usual, Minho comes in late – if he ever comes over. But since he is the boss, he thinks he can take some license and do what he pleases, like hiding under a table to stalk on Jinwoo. Not that he has done that – on purpose. Not that Jihoon nearly swept him the other day, cleaning the cafe after closing. He was just collecting something that felt there. Twice. Or three times. Right next Jinwoo's table, where he was fixated on his writing and couldn't see him staring. Not that he would be ashamed to be caught up, because he wasn't doing anything like daydreaming to sit with him, hands holding – he was only taking care of his cafe.

It's been three months and Jinwoo has become a regular as predicted. He comes over nearly every day, drinks his floral tea and works on his computer.

Today, though, he looks dashing, better than ever and Minho smiles at him, wondering the reason. He is wearing a blazer over a shirt, fitted jeans and a glint of makeup and, for a second, Minho believes that it's for him. After all, he has managed to talk to him - Seunghoon said that he had improved, that now he can say three words in a row without being mortifying to contemplate it.

"I have a date with Minhyuk!" he explains, with a shy smile that flattens on the corners of his lips. Minho wants to cry. ‘What? No! He is a fuckboy, he is a player and will hurt you’ but says nothing because the devil itself is coming through the door, dimples showing, smirking, waving his hands at Jinwoo. He kisses his cheeks, the bastard. Right in front of Minho's salad.

If only Minho came over to Ohchill more often, he would have noticed their blooming friendship. But he has been too caught up with his art, preparing a new exhibition to take care of his business. And Seunghoon had has to deal with it - he is still more boss than Minho. During the last few weeks, Minhyk has visited the place on the daily, usually sitting and chatting with Jinwoo – but Seunghoon never saw a threaten on it and so he didn’t report on Minho, not that he felt morally obligated to do so, not that Minho paid him extra for keeping him updated on Jinwoo’s whereabouts.

Minhyuk walks Jinwoo out of Ohchill, a hand on the small of his back, very gently and Minho is losing his mind. He is already spitting fire through his glance only to earn a wink from Minhyuk. All turns red when they both leave the cafe and Minho, soon, follows suits and goes home – to paint his jealousy and, probably, to disown Seunghoon and Jihoon for letting it happen.

With all his work, Seunghoon hasn’t had the time to ask Jinwoo about his cute friend – the one who, sometimes, joins Jinwoo on the cafe and who always asks for a vanilla latte. As infatuated as Seunghoon could be – and he has no problem admitting it – unlike Minho, he can keep it cool and casual and he fools around him to get his attention without being corny or being notoriously obvious. Unlike Minho, he is not sulky when the boy doesn’t come, or when he isn’t giving him a glance. Unlike Minho, he will ask Jinwoo more about his friend, to get to know him, to ask him out, one day instead of being embarrassing and chickening out whenever Jinwoo is getting too close.

“Today’s on the house,” Seunghoon says, handing cute boy his vanilla late. When he smiles at him, the sun bathes him, he feels warm inside, wants to reach his lips and caress the velvety touch of it. He smiles back and let him go, observing his way to Jinwoo. Long limbs, bonny fingers, slim legs that waggle when he trots – from his curls to his feet, he is a puppy and Seunghoon wants for nothing but to pet him, play with his fringe, let him curl on his lap, hands on his back, resting.

Jinwoo greets him with mirth gleaming on his beautiful eyes. The boy doesn’t run, he waltzes – he even twirls much to everybody’s delight and it’s such a view to have!

“Do you need anything else?” It’s Jihoon’s work but with this boy, Seunghoon makes an exception – he is an exception himself, of cuteness, of Seunghoon’s type, but he likes him nevertheless.

The boy looks up and smiles – he is always smiling, Seunghoon has noted.

“Oh! Jinwoo hyung told me that you bake! Can I have some goodies?” he asks, blinking, begging, baby-eyeing him.

“I’ll bring you an assortment of our best pastries,” he promises, recalling what he has stored. Butterfingers, chocolate chips cookies, brownies and cupcakes; he puts them nicely on a plate and serves him – them. But the boy is up already, waiting for him, stealing a biscuit out of him with a smirk.

“Jinwoo hyung is right! You are such a great cook!” he says, brushing away the crumbs from his lips – the crumbs fall on the floor and Seunghoon is glad that he isn’t kissing them just to taste his lips and tongue (that is something only Minho would do; he is not that crazy and desperate). But at hearing such a compliment, he flushes red, shimmering in happiness.

While preparing some more coffee, Seunghoon listens to them chatting with a feathery smile on his face.

Minho comes in – late – like a storm. He looks tired, dark circles under dark lashes and drinks two long Americanos in one go before realizing that Jinwoo is there – he has acted normal for ten minutes under Jinwoo’s presence.

“He hasn’t mentioned anything,” Seunghoon feels compelled to tell because his boss looks rather murderous – for the lack of sleep and lack of luck with Jinwoo. He hums something in between gulps of coffee.

Minho wants to eradicate Minhyuk from the face of the earth. The little fucker. He should have known when he came to the opening day that he would be trouble. Minhyuk has always been – treacherous, a casanova, a player, someone he shouldn’t trust. He was eyeing Jinwoo too much, he was being too clingy towards him, walking with his arms around his waist, his head on his shoulder. And he was smiling too much at him, blinding him with his hollow dimples – that he wants to crave until filled with blood, smash his smirk, erase it out of his smug face. He hasn’t slept a wink. He hasn’t been able to pain or to think, too frustrated imagining them kissing – Jinwoo’s precious lips gracing over Minhyuk’s filthy ones, crazy. He feels so frustrated – because he is sleepy and because Jinwoo is here, looking as dashing as always, darling and lovely, a sun sitting inside his coffee shop.

He doesn’t want to know the details – he does, very much, he needs more reasons to hate Minhyuk. But before he can get to Jinwoo, Jihoon gets to him with a cheerful grin.

Unlike Seunghoon, he has news – unlike Seunghoon, he worked for Minhyk at Mujabee before turning out to be Minho’s clerk when he moved out of town. They reminded friends, though, and he owns all the dirty detach that he runs to share with Minho.

“He introduced Jinwoo to Kyung,” he explains, much to Minho’s confusion. So now he is in for a threesome? Isn’t Jinwoo enough? He adds another line to his “Loathe Minhyuk list”. There must be something on his expression because, suddenly, Jihoon is laughing – at his expenses.

“What is it funny about this predator? He wanted to corrupt Jinwoo hyung!” he hisses between his clenched teeth.

“Minho, Kyung is Minhyuk’s fiancé,” Jihoon explains, calmly. Minho doesn’t understand. It takes ten seconds for Jihoon to understand, too, the reason for Minho’s behaviour. “Oh, God Lord!” he exclaims, laughing even harder, “Minhyuk isn’t the type to cheat! He adores Kyung! Have been together since forever. I’ve never seen a couple so in love. He wanted to ask Jinwoo for help since Kyung is doing his paper for his doctorate. Needed a few types about editing and correcting,” he patiently explains.

So that’s it, Minho thinks, jealousy dying happily inside his chest. He restores Minhyuk to his prime state, adds him to the list of the people he will invite to his wedding day.

Jinwoo doesn't know anything about art but assists Minho's exhibition all the same. Seunghoon has insisted that he should be his plus one and he has tagged along. Minho must be a very good artist, judging by the number of people that have gathered in the gallery.

He is greeted by a steward serving flutes of champagne and he looks around, interested, trying to figure it up the meaning of the paintings on the walls and leaning on the floor, appreciating shapes and colours and nothing more. But even if he doesn’t understand art, he understands the importance of the event, the success that it is for Minho. And Jinwoo is happy for him, the one who is slowly reaching all his goals. He is a remarkable name on the artists’ circle judging by how many connoisseurs are contemplating the canvas, talking between them in professional, critics whispers – and by how they are reacting it seems that the reviews are going to be good, that the reception is already better than expected. HE is also the owner of a great cafe shop, trendy and hip and Jinwoo’s second home and office – and it’s not only for the pleasant aesthetics or the tasteful coffee. He is walking around when he spots Seunyoon. He is with his camera, capturing the paintings and Minho – and, too late, he remembers that he works for the local paper. He smiles at his roommate. He didn't know he was coming, otherwise, he would have told Seunghoon.

He turns around to find his other friend and tell him that someone he likes is here too – he might be innocent but Jinwoo has seen the way Seunghoon’s eyes are drawn behind Seungyoon, he has witnessed the chaos, the aftermath of just a glance over Seunghoon can stir. Instead, he ends facing Minho. He is wearing a matching suit. He looks fancy on it – he looks elegant and composed, professional (opposite to his usual, casual looks). He wants to avoid him because he must be busy and Jinwoo doesn’t want to interrupt, but he turns a second too late.

"Hyung!" he exclaims with the sun bathing his skin, eyes glimmering. He is excited to see him. He is excited for his first exhibition, for the attention he is gaining as an artist. "Do you like it?" He smiles at him holding stars in the corner of his dimples.

"Honestly? I don't understand art," Jinwoo says apologetically.

Jinwoo doesn't care about arts but he cares about the way Minho takes upon himself to teach him, walking him through the gallery, explaining concepts and the meaning of the shapes he has painted and colours theories. And he can tell how much he loves talking about it because, for once, he is coherent and doesn't stutters or feels at lost. Minho shines and Jinwoo feels content under his light, warmed by Minho’s voice – soothing, relaxing, alive - trickling his sense like a summer day.

Seunghoon recognises some of Minho’s paintings – he has been in his atelier before. He knows the meaning of some, others are just a mystery he isn’t ready to solve – he has better things to think about, like a certain boy he likes a lot.

He must be dreaming. He tilts his head, right, left, rubs his eyes, but he is still there, taking pictures. And when he twirls Seunghoon notices the tag he is wearing – a press tag with his name: Kang Seungyoon. Now, that encounter feels like destiny – and he doesn’t believe in such a thing, - but he won’t waste such an opportunity. He tags along and begins chatting with him.

“Oh, you are Jinwoo’s friend!” he exclaims, recognising Seunghoon. He is all soft and smiley and adorable.

“Wouldn’t be better if we become friends as well?” Seunghoon wants to smash himself, hard, for such a lame pickup line. It is terrible but Seungyoon blushes and blinks at him with a hint of something magical swirling.

“Much better! Then, can I call you hyung?” he says, excitedly, clinging into him like a magnet. He radiates joy and happiness and his eagerness is spreading to his heart. “Jinwoo hyung talks so much about you I feel like I already know you,” he shares with a side smirk.

“Call me as you feel more comfortable with,” he offers, the boy already holding his arm.

“Love? Boyfriend?” Seungyoon suggests, “they sound great to me because I really want to call you that”.

Cheeky this boy is. But Seunghoon likes him, blunt, straightforward, sincere. He likes the way he sticks to him, hands laced, his chin on his shoulder, ready for him, ready to enter his life and Seunghoon is welcoming him in. Because he isn’t the type to beat around the bush; if it works out, perfect, if it doesn’t, at least they would have tried – they will have a moment together.

“Then I’ll go with puppy”, he grins, rubbing his curls as he has been fantasying to. It is softer than expected and Seungyoon purrs at the gesture delighted.

Seungyoon’s plump lips taste like Ochil’s vanilla latte and dreams.

Jinwoo must be enjoying this chatter because it's the second round around the exhibition and he hasn't complained. He is letting Minho talk about his paintings, about his favourites artists, about current trends and, slowly, they are moving to other matters. Personal matters – struggles and problems and things he is revealing to Jinwoo for the first time.

Minho can’t believe he is telling him all that is lingering inside his heart. He has always ached to tell him, longing and craving to let him know. This time he will tell him how he feels about him, how he nearly died thinking he had lost him against Minhyuk – who has come over to introduce him Park Kyung. Minho genuinely wants to ask him out but, after two hours of constant talking, Jinwoo beats him and invites him to dinner.

“To celebrate your exhibition! Tomorrow if it’s OK with you,” he says, beaming. He wants to listen to Minho more, wants to get to know him better, wants to become closer to him, like he always wanted but never had the opportunity – back in college he was too busy and they couldn’t meet so often to be anything more than acquaintances.

“Why not now? My treat!” Minho replies, smirking, the moon gleaming silver on his smile. Jinwoo laughs – and his laugh reverberates through the night sky.

“Because people are waiting for you. Important people,” he remarks.

‘But no-one is more important than you,’ the words are pushing on the tip of his tongue, but Minhyuk is back to block it.

“Minho, congratulations!” he greets, throwing his arms around his shoulders, pushing him away from Jinwoo. Jinwoo laughs but this time Minho can’t find it adorable – it hurts the way it is diminishing in the air, the last note of a perfect song.

A storm is falling on him. He has to talk with the critics and hold a small interview for the local press and by the time he is done, Jinwoo has long gone. He hates it, all the people who got in between them – he loathes Minhyuk the most, again, for forcing him out of Jinwoo’s presence, the star and universes hiding inside his eyes.

The next day it’s Sunday. Jinwoo doesn’t work on weekends but today he comes over to Ohchill. Seungyoon is already there, sitting with Seunghoon, who is lazily stroking his hair. Together they look rather beautiful. Filled with elation and bliss.

As per usual, Minho comes to work late.

Jinwoo is waiting for him sipping a cuppa of black tea.

“You are late,” he says, waving at him.

“I didn’t know we have a meeting?” he replies, surprised.

“You would be late anyway,” Jinwoo jokes – but hits home. “Come on, I took the liberty to reserve table in a good restaurant that Seunghoon recommended”, he says, fingers reaching for Minho’s hand, dragging him to the exit.

“Just go, don’t worry about your business!” Seunghoon complains, laughing, Seungyoon on his lap.

“He is never here anyway,” Jihoon butts in from behind the counter, “and everything is better when he is not around. Actually,” he looks around, disgusted, “all of you leave Ohchill to me, and get the four a room! This place is not a motel to make-out, you jerks” he yells, looking at his friends – Seunghoon is holding Seungyoon’s waist, heads bump together, snuggling; Jinwoo is soaking on Minho’s light.

Minho will deal with his insubordinate friend later. Right now he is too busy feeling Jinwoo’s hands on his to care or worry – or to feel anything else than happiness.

The date is lovely. They have talk and joke and it has all gone smoothly. Minho is so sweet and caring, Jinwoo hasn’t been this happy before. It’s not only that Minho is charming but he is sort of a miracle – he makes Jinwoo’s heart pound with delight.

He has insisted to walk Jinwoo home. On the way there silence has fallen upon them – but it’s a nice silence, just them enjoying each other’s presence, hands tangled.

When they reach Jinwoo’s building Minho doesn’t want to let go. He wants to stretch time, to keep Jinwoo by his side a little longer, a minute more.

Jinwoo looks at him shyly, eyes implausible big and shiny.

“Minho... it would be Ok... I mean, if you want to, to have a date again?” he wonders, stuttering – Minho’s heart stutters with him.

Minho nods. Would be more than OK for him to go out with him – or to stay in as long as it is with him.

“I would love that,” he settles on saying. Jinwoo hums in agreement.

“Can I ask you something else?” he doesn’t wait, “can I kiss you?” he says, starry eyes and steady lips.

“I... Yes...” Minho moans into the kiss, swallowing words, eating them to give room to more kisses. “Love that,” he repeats, his lips colliding sweetly, “love it”.

“Minho, do you like me?” he asks between slow kisses, as innocent as possible, his orbs half-closed, shimmering.

Minho wants to punch him. ‘Like’ doesn’t come near what he feels. 'Like' can’t compare with his true feelings.

Minho stares at Jinwoo, who looks impossible beautiful painted in silver – he wants to trace him, memorise the way he feels so ethereal, his mouth twisted in awe, his eyes holding fireworks and newborn stars. Like this Jinwoo is wonderful, unattachable – and Minho’s.

“Aren’t am obvious enough?” he questions himself more than Jinwoo. He always thought it was clear, but not for Jinwoo. But it doesn’t matter, not when Jinwoo is kissing him again, cleaning his mind of any thought that isn’t Jinwoo pressed against his ribs, his hands dancing on his hips.

“Seunghoon told me and I didn’t believe it,” he explains in between falling smooches. They are both on Jinwoo’s couch, Minho on top, covering Jinwoo with an endless supply of warm touches, his hands cradling his cheeks, his lips on his skin. “I like you a lot, too,” he confesses and it feels hot under his fingertips, cheeks flushing in mysterious shades of pink.

“You should trust him and trust your worth, hyung,” Minho replies, finger dancing on his strawberry lips – Jinwoo pouts and steals another of Minho’s heartbeats. “You are such a good person, everybody back in college was in love with you,” he explains, giggling. “But I loved you the most”.

“I don’t mind, I’m OK with you loving me right now”.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" Minho says, the door opening but his hands are still holding Jinwoo, not ready to go - never ready to let go of Jinwoo. Jinwoo laughs.

"Aren't I a regular at Ohchill?" his voice is like a spell, captivating Minho's mind. Of course, he will be there, he has been there since the beginning. And will be until the end.

"Remind Jihoon that whatever you want it's on the house", he winks, relishing into yet another goodbye kiss.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Minho," he says, pushing him out, chuckling.

"I'll see you tomorrow at opening hours, sharp, love," he promises.

For the first time ever, Minho is the one opening Ohchill next Monday morning, much to Jinwoo, Jihoon and Seunghoon's shock.


End file.
